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This
September, a young Ethiopian housemaid in Dubai was kicked out of the house by
her employers and not paid her last three months wages, so she stood in the
street attempting to commit suicide. She was then arrested and subsequently
fined 1000Dhs as committing suicide is illegal in the UAE. The appalling
story has created outcry in the UAE, and sparked a campaign raising funds
for the fine.

Since
then, there have been further suicide
attempts by Ethopian housemaids in Dubai and Ras
Al Khaimah. Attention has been turned once again to the treatment of the
thousands of women employed as domestic workers in the country, most of whom
come from the Philippines, Sri Lanka, Indonesia and Ethiopia.

One
of the university readings I’ve never forgotten is “Maid to Order”, a book by
Nicole Constable about domestic workers in Hong Kong. Although inflected with
slight differences and Hong Kong particulars, the ethnography struck a cord as
I was reading about the familiar in an unfamiliar way. Academic theories on the
commodification of care, globalisation and migratory circuits were juxtaposed
with my memories and experiences in the UAE, where domestic help is an integral
part of daily life.

I
grew up with a housemaid; pineapple cut expertly by Filipino hands, ramen
noodles always kept in stock for lunch, Tagalog gossip when passing other maids
in the neighbourhood. On Fridays, she’d rise early to spend the day at church
and with friends. Stories of her own children, being cared for by grandparents,
the younger sisters she was putting through college. All of my friends and
peers also grew up with a housemaid, and some even lived in households with a
few domestic staff members.

While
it’s very normal in the UAE, I’m well aware how alien the idea of a ‘housemaid’
is in the developed west. People find it uncomfortable, unsurprisingly given
the intimacy of working in someone else’s home, the inequitable power dynamics
arising from wealth, class and gender politics on a global level, and
not-too-distant histories of slavery and colonialism.

Domestic
workers are of course not unique to the UAE or even the GCC. Lebanon, Hong
Kong, Singapore, South Africa are just a few other places where domestic
workers are the norm, not the exception. Thousands of women, each with her own
story of kind employers and decent salaries, of homesickness and guilt at being
far from their own children - and some of the abuse and nightmarish situations.

While
the UAE has signed up to the International Labour Organisation’s convention and
recommendations related to domestic workers, current labour law does not cover
domestic workers. As a recent editorial noted, dependency on sponsors makes
quitting near impossible, and places
housemaids in a vulnerable position. Several high profile cases of abuse in
recent years led to disputes at national levels. In 2011, after the death
penalty was carried out in Saudi Arabia on an Indonesian maid who’d killed her
employer, Indonesia banned its citizens from working in the Kingdom, and Saudi
Arabia also responded by banning Indonesians - although an agreement has now
been reached. A dispute over wages and hiring guidelines saw Saudi Arabia also
banning domestic workers from the Philippines last June. Both the UAE and Saudi
Arabia have now agreed
to minimum wages.

Indonesia
and the Philippines are both heavily reliant economically on remittances from
migrant workers. But it’s encouraging to see them taking more of a stand, and
attempting to offer greater protection to domestic workers through diplomatic
agreements and on-the-ground embassy support.